


Shadowed Paths

by Merawlee



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood and Violence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Reader-Insert, Smut, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 03:58:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14180073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merawlee/pseuds/Merawlee
Summary: You had always taken the safe path, never putting yourself in a situation to become a victim. The only 'adventurous' thing you had ever done was accepting a job at a hospital in another country. You could not have known how such a decision would affect the rest of your life... and it all started with you going down the less travelled path one sunny morning.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JaneWeller](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneWeller/gifts).



> This is a belated Christmas gift turned Easter gift to Jane Weller. We met during Camp NaNoWriMo last year. I found in her a kindred spirit. So, I wanted to give her something in thanks for now being part of my life despite the distance between us and for enduring my endless talk about anything pertaining to Assassin's Creed.
> 
> This is my first foray into the Reader's Insert genre so I am not sure I rendered it well, in all honesty.
> 
> I write using British English and though I try my best to find every mistakes/typos/grammar faults, I am nevertheless human so some might have escaped me and for that, I am sorry.
> 
> There is very detailed smut in this story but I do strive to never using vulgarity in my sex scenes. For many, it works, I personally don't like it in my writings. But, at the end of the day, smut is smut and all kind is good!

### Chapter One

  
The sun was barely up, the streets still quiet as the people slowly woke up to what promised to be a beautifully sunny day. Even the birds were chirping merrily. It was an idyllic morning and yet you felt like anything but. You would have much preferred to stay in bed with the blanket well over your head to shut out the entire world.

Nevertheless, here you were out and about doing your usual morning jogging. You did not even know why you bothered other than running first thing in the morning was almost an integral part of your daily life. Right now, the only thing holding you together was going through your well known and familiar routine.

Granted, you had more pressing things to do than run through the park with music blaring in your earphones. Packing came to mind but you rebelled at the thought. You had barely unpacked a few weeks ago, you did not want to have to redo it all over again. In truth, you were simply not ready to face the reality of your current predicament. It was better to simply run and try not to overly think about it. It was proving quite futile. How did everything became so messed up in such a short time?

It had only been a month since you had waved goodbye to your family and friends before boarding the plane, the thrill of starting a new life in another country overshadowing any doubts and concerns these ones had raised when you had told them of your plans. They had meant well but you were a vibrant young woman, or at least you had been.

With a soft hiss, you quickly changed the music and searched for one that was more attuned to your current mood.

In hindsight, your family’s worry had been well founded. Here you were, in what could be the biggest crisis of your life, stuck in a still unfamiliar country with your shattered dream laying at your feet. And the worst part was that none of it was your fault!

You had accepted a job opening for a certified emergency nurse in one of the world’s best hospitals. It had seemed like the greatest opportunity all wrapped in adventure, and at first it had been. You had loved your job, the challenge of it stimulating, your coworkers friendly as were most of your bosses. All in all, this had been nothing short of a dream come true… until that day when one of the surgeons had gotten through his thick head to seduce you.

At first you had politely refused when he had asked you out on a date. He had not come across as a bad man, simply a bit too pushy. He was not your type and, frankly, you had just moved to the country so you were not ready to start dating anyone, least of all someone you worked with. But after your third refusal, he had become even more aggressive, so much so that you had decided to go file a harassment complaint with human resources. They had been shocked with the man’s unprofessionalism and had reassured you sanctions were going to be given to him. You had actually believed them.

The next day, you had been convoked by your head of staff and told that, unfortunately, you were being ‘let go’. Of course, you were given some bogus reason but since you were on a working visa, you had no recourse to expose their bullshit. They had circled the waggons to protect a surgeon and though a brilliant emergency nurse, you were still but a lowly nurse.

Your vision blurred and, with an impatient hand, you wiped the tears away. You were not too sure why you were crying. Was it because you were angry, because you were sad? Perhaps they were merely tears of frustration brought upon by the hopeless situation. In the end, there was nothing you could do. You could not even try to appeal through your embassy. You had been fired and as such, would be expected to go back home, home where all who knew you would be supportive but, at the same time, would probably say ‘I told you so.’ They were always going on about always choosing the safest and more reliable path, about how adventure was often unwise and could lead to disaster. You did not relish proving them right.

While lost in your musing you had come upon the fork in the park trail. Usually you would turn right and continue on through the well travelled path but, as if rebelling the safer choice, your feet took you down the left pathway, the sunlight barely filtering through the thicker tree foliage. Though it made you uneasy, your instincts screaming at you to turn back, you nevertheless continued on. What could happen to you that was worst than what had already happened? Getting kicked out of the country because of an asshole had to be on the top of bad things one could suffer from.

You shuffled through your music once more and turned the volume up. Actually, the scenery was enjoyable, the path lined with trees giving a sense of isolation, the barely maintained trail demanding more concentration so as not to twist an ankle. It was a perfect distraction from your your dark musings.

After a while, your lungs started to burn, your legs quivering tiredly. Looking at your watch and noticing the time, you turned back. No matter how much you wanted to postpone having to deal with the all too painful reality, you simply could not just run away from your problems though the temptation of doing just was strong.

You were halfway back to the forked pathway when something suddenly hit you hard in the middle of the back. Your hands automatically tried to break your fall but the palms skid on the gravel, the small stones cutting into the skin while your lungs emptied themselves of every ounce of oxygen, your knees becoming badly scraped in the process. Wheezing, you painfully turned on your back, your heart seizing at what you beheld. There, towering over you, was a man, a stranger. By the sick gleam in his eyes, you instinctively knew what was about to happen.

Your brain froze, your fight instinct disappearing completely. With small desperate whimpers, you tried to backpedal away but your bleeding hands kept slipping on the gravel. Your heart almost exploded out of your chest so hard it beat, panic making your blood rush madly. Still the man said not one thing, made no noise as he pounced on you.

You desperately tried to fight him off but he proved much too strong. The more you tried, the more he seemed to enjoy it. One of his hands closed around your throat while the other fumbled with your shorts. You had just enough air to let out one strangled scream before your lungs struggled for air. Spots appeared in your vision, your mind wanting to curl upon itself.

Just as he forced your legs down to slip your shorts off, his weight suddenly lifted. Blessed oxygen flowed in your lungs. It took a few seconds for your brain to register what you were seeing. A stranger all dressed in black, his face hidden under a hood, was holding your aggressor up. You had barely time to blink that he smoothly and silently slid his throat with a blade strangely protruding from his wrist.

The sight of the gaping wound, of the neatly sliced flesh, of the blood flowing down the would-be rapist’s throat was too much. Your flight instincts kicked into hyper drive and, despite how battered and bloodied you were, you finally got up on your feet and turned to run away from the grisly sight, from your now dead attacker, from the new threat the black-clothed man presented.

A sharp pain flared from your forehead, white exploding through your vision before being engulfed in complete darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

### Chapter Two

  
The sound of voices raised in arguments intruded upon your rest. It seemed the neighbours, usually so quiet and generally unobtrusive, were having quite a row. And why was it so dark? Was it already night? You had gone running in the early morning… had you not? Surely you had not slept the entire day away! Wait! When had you come back home? _How_ had you come back home?!

Though your mind was strangely foggy, the incessant pounding of the worst migraine you had ever suffered making it hard to think clearly, you knew there was something not quite right. Something was just not adding up. It took your brain a moment longer to realise you were not in your bed. You were not even in your apartment!

You tried to move but it seemed as if your entire body was aching, your hands inexpertly bandaged. Your head finally cleared. You had been attacked, on the verge of being raped until someone had intervened by killing your aggressor. What had happened afterwards? Why were you brought here? So many questions and no answers. All you knew for certain was that you _had_ to find a way to leave!

“She stays. End of discussion,” you heard someone, a man by the timber of the voice, say. Whoever they were, they were obviously talking about you. You held your breath in case they could heard it even though it was impossible. You were caught between the urge to flee and to eavesdrop. The desire to know what they planned to do to you proved too hard to resist.

“Moussa has been missing for two days now!” a woman replied in a heated voice. “We don’t have time to deal with other shit!”

“What part of ‘she stays’ haven’t you understood, Lin?” There was a long silence broken only by your rapid heartbeat.

“You’ll get us all killed!” she finally hissed.

“Really? If it hadn’t been for me, you probably would’ve still been either stuck in that fucking place or purged like the others! I’m not holding you here. If you want to go, the door’s right there!” There was a deep sigh. “Yes, Moussa’s missing but until we find out what happened to him, we’re not leaving. As for the woman, you’re right. I shouldn’t have brought her here.” Another long pause, another sigh. “I’ll take care of it while you go and try to find any clues as to where he is.”

Oh no! You knew very well what ‘taking care of’ meant. After all you had witnessed the man killing someone. Just the memory of the gaping wound was enough to make you whimper softly, your own throat aching in empathy. Were you going to be dealt the same fate? Your gaze looked around the darkened room but you found nothing to defend yourself with. As for running away, there was only one door. There was a window on the opposite wall but it looked bolted shut. You would not have the time to try and open it. You should have taken your chance at finding a way to escape instead of wanting to hear what they had been talking about. But now, at hearing the soft footsteps stop in front of the closed door, you knew your time was up. Hopefully having your throat slit would not be too painful.

Slowly, almost noiselessly, the door opened. There the man stood, a mere shadow in the darkness of the hallway. You did not need a mirror to know that your pupils were totally dilated in terror nor did you need a stethoscope to hear how your heartbeat had skyrocketed. You were going to die after everything that had happened! You were going to be killed in this country far away from your loved ones!

“You’re awake,” the man said. It was not a question. “You heard our conversation.” That was not one either. You did not know what to answer so you said nothing, not that you would have been able to produce anything above a mousy squeak of fright.

Quite suddenly, your vision flared white, a piecing pain exploding inside your skull. You raised your hands protectively in front of your face while knowing it was too late. That motherfucker had shot you in the head! The agonising throbbing went on for what seemed like an eternity. Wait! Being shot in the head was usually a quick way to die so why were you not dead?

“Just as I thought. You’ve got a nasty bump on your head,” you heard him say, strong though gentle hands pulling yours down and away from your face. “Well that’s what happens when you try to run only to brain yourself on a tree branch. Hopefully, you don’t have a concussion.”

You painfully opened your eyes, the naked light bulb hanging from the ceiling blinding. No wonder you had felt like you had been shot! It took a moment for your eyes to finally adjust to the brightness. The man was sitting on the the edge of the bed, the hood of his long black coat down, his blue eyes gazing at you with an almost primal intensity. His short light-brown almost reddish hair and stubble beard only added to his rugged look. You more than knew he was a dangerous man and yet your heart nevertheless flip-flopped in your chest. Why was it that the ‘bad boy’ type usually came with such looks?

You had always scoffed at the theory of the Stockholm Syndrome but here you were almost drooling over the very man who had not only coldly killed someone in front of you but who had obviously kidnapped you. Granted, you were not tied to the bed nor restrained in any manner… That was _so_ not a thought to be having in his presence, your imagination running wild with it. You chose the easiest way to distract yourself from those lustful mental images.

“Headache or pressure in the head, loss of consciousness, confusion, amnesia, dizziness, ears ringing, nausea, vomiting, slurred speech…”

“What the fuck are you on about?” he growled effectively making you snap your mouth shut.

“Well… that is to say… signs of concussions…,” you lamely explained. The man gazed at you for a long moment with a cocked eyebrow, the growing silence making you fidget slightly.

“And do you? Have a concussion?” he finally asked. You shook your head in negation. Sure, you had a throbbing headache but you had gone through quite an ordeal, both physically and mentally, and, really, you only had two symptoms, three tops. Far from a certified concussion. “Then what’s with the fucking enumeration?”

You could very well not explain to him the fact you had needed to think about anything but smutty scenarios. At the same time, it could be funny to watch his reaction upon learning of them and the fact he was the main actor.

“You wondered if I had one and…”

“Are you a doctor?” he rudely interrupted. Once more, you shook your head.

“I’m a nurse.” Or at least you had been until very recently. If there was one positive aspect of being attacked, having a man killed in front of you, and then finding yourself in a strange bed with the murderer who looked way too sexy for your own good, it was that it had distracted you from your current shitty situation concerning your employment and the fact your visa was about to be revoked.

“Guess that explains the fact you work in an hospital,” he said with the shadow of a cocksure grin on his lips. How did he know where you worked? Was the slip intentional? Was he threatening you by letting you see how much he knew about you? If he knew where you used to work, did he also know where you lived? Was he some sort of a stalker?

Your gaze flickered down to his wrist, your breath catching at the glint of metal peeking from the edge of his sleeve. His smirk intensified. Slowly, he lifted his left arm and, with a rapid move, flexed his hand. A wickedly sharp-looking blade sprung out of the sleeve. You remembered well how it had easily slit your aggressor’s throat like a scalpel.

“Are you… Are you going to kill me?” you asked with a whimper. The blade slid back inside the sleeve, the man laughing mirthlessly.

“Now why would I do something like that?” Before you could blink, he was bending forward forcing you to lie back down. His hands came to rest on either side of your head, his face stopping just a few inches above yours, the look in his eyes nothing short of smoldering. “I brought you back here, patched you up, and gave you my bed. Care to tell me why you think I’d kill you after going to all this trouble?”

You could not come up with even one little answer. You could not even formulate a reply, your mind having abandoned you as soon as you had felt the warmth of his body. Heat pooled bellow your navel, your lower muscles twitching in answer. You licked your lips, the gesture almost automatic. His gaze zeroed in on your mouth. His face inched closer. If you lifted yours just a fraction, you would be kissing him and, despite everything that had happened, despite it being oh so very wrong, a part of you wanted to do just that.

Nevertheless, the man suddenly smiled, a truly wicked smile, and sat back up. You felt somehow cheated. The bastard was toying with you like a cat toyed with its prey! How dare he make you all hot and bothered while trying to scare you at the same time! The raw desire that had coursed through your veins withered and turned into anger.

“You fucking asshole!” you shrieked unmindful of being heard by the entire neighbourhood. “Is that how you get your shits and giggles, huh? What? You rescue girls you stalk only to then torture them?” You sat up and gave him your very best Bitch Look Of Doom. “Well you try that with me and I’ll open a can of whoopass you won’t soon forget!”

The insufferable motherfucker actually chuckled! He _chuckled_! You saw red and let out an earsplitting shrill. The next thing you knew, you were hitting him but it only made him laugh louder. He grabbed your wrists and held your bandaged fists away from his chest.

“You’ll hurt yourself,” he said with a snicker. “What’s wrong with you? One minute you’re afraid for your life and the next you try to claw my eyes out. That time of the month?” The smirk disappeared from his lips, his eyes gazing at you brazenly. “Or is it something else?”

He sharply pulled your wrists towards him making you fall forward until your chest was flush with his. He quickly brought your arms behind you and held them with only one hand. You were effectively pinned against him. He bent his head, his hot breath grazing the delicate skin just under your jawbone. If your heart could have jumped out of your chest, it would happily have.

“Is that it, [name]? You’re afraid but you’re also attracted so you’re lashing out?” he asked, the growl in his voice making you squirm.

“How do you know my name?” you absently enquired. You should be frightened that he knew who you were but the only thing you wanted was to feel his lips on your skin. How could he make you feel so wanton despite your better judgement?

“I went through your wallet while you were unconscious,” he whispered making your skin tingle. So that was how he had known about the hospital. He had probably seen your ID pass. “I’m not a stalker, [name], at least I’m not usually.” Now that was a peculiar thing to say. You tried to think, to make sense of it all in a logical manner but his tongue started tracing the edge of your jaw. All coherent thoughts disappeared.

You moaned softly while lifting your chin and arching your back to give him better access to your throat. It was wrong, so very wrong for many different reasons but your life currently was, for a lack of a better term, in shamble. You deserved a respite from all the shit going on right now, even is said respite was to be found in the arms of a murderer. In all honesty, the man he had killed would have raped you, had most probably raped other women so it was good riddance all around.

He lifted his face away from your neck and gazed intently at you. Whatever he saw in your eyes made him smile briefly. His free hand tightly grabbed the back of your neck. He pulled your face closer, your lips parting in anticipation. There was a crash followed by a loud banging noise.

“Callum! CALLUM! I’ve found Moussa! I need help!”

The moment was shattered, the man who you now knew as Callum jumping off of the bed and rushing out of the room. This was your chance to hightail it out of there but your eyes gazed at your hands, at the unskilled bandaging. Your lips lifted in a soft smile. No, you could not just leave like that. Sure, he scared you but he also made your whole body tingle in raw lust.

You slowly got up, your body still feeling sore, and followed after him. You were not sure if you were allowed to do so. Nevertheless, as soon as you entered what looked like a small kitchenette, everything that had happened to you had stopped mattering. Lying on the table was a black man covered in blood, an Asian woman bending over him in concern while Callum looked murderous in the extreme. Your training took over, adrenaline making you rush to the wounded man.

“What happened?” you asked. The woman hissed dangerously and tried to stop you but you speared her with a cold look. “I’m a nurse so get out of my fucking way!” You turned your attention back to the man, assessing his condition. The amount of blood drenching his body was alarming. It took you only a moment to locate the worst of his injuries. His arms from wrists to elbows were badly mangled, the flesh torn.

“I found him tied to a tree outside of town,” the woman said in a dead voice. “The fuckers used barbed wire to hold him in place.” You viciously swore while quickly ripping the bandages from your hands. They were raw-looking with many deep scratches but you would not be able to work otherwise.

“I need fresh bandages and water!” Callum rushed to get you what you needed while you gently put two fingers on the black man’s carotid artery. Not only was his skin dry to the touch but his pulse was much too erratic as was his breathing. His eyes slowly opened, their sunken appearance letting you that he was suffering from acute dehydration. “Hi, I’m [name]. I’m here to help so just relax. Everything will be just fine.” The man tried to smile but that seemed to be too much of an effort for him. He lost consciousness almost immediately. “We need to bring him to the hospital!” you whispered as soon as Callum appeared by your side with makeshift bandages. You quickly went through the process of cleaning and binding the worst injuries as best you could with whatever they had on hand. It was beyond basic survival supplies. Naturally, it was only a temporary solution. He needed more care than you could currently give him.

“No, we can’t. Do what you can but no hospital,” Callum replied, his tone of voice letting you know he would not stand for any arguments.

“Don’t you get it? I’ve done what I can!” The situation was frustrating. You could understand that these people were criminals, most probably wanted criminals even, but to let one of their own suffer because of it was something you just could not accept!

You gazed at Moussa. You did not know if his Tetanus vaccines were still effective let alone if he had ever receive them in his life. The area where he had been tied had been dirty and was doubtlessly infected. The chances of him developing not only Tetanus but blood poisoning if nothing was done were too high for you to disregard. After all, rapid breathing and erratic pulse were symptoms. If he was not treated, he could develop severe sepsis and most assuredly die. Furthermore, he badly needed saline solutions to rehydrate him.

You briefly closed your eyes and came to a decision.

“I can’t do anything more without getting what I need from the hospital,” you finally added. You were a nurse, Moussa was your patient. You would be damned if you did not try to treat him to the best of your abilities! Though the Nightingale Oath was less and less used, you still believed in its principles.

Callum said nothing, the weight of his stare making you squirm slightly.

“Alright,” he finally said. “Let’s go get what you need.”


	3. Chapter 3

### Chapter Three

  
In a sense it was poetic justice that the hospital you were about to rob was the same one who had fired you instead of dealing with a harasser simply because he was a surgeon. Still, no matter what, you were about to break the law. There would likely be no turning back afterwards.

“Getting inside the hospital is easy but how do you suggest we grab what we need? I’m no expert but I’m pretty sure it’s locked up tight,” Callum asked.

“With my ID card,” you explained. That would give you access to the basic medical supplies, bandages, saline solutions, and suture kits. The drugs were kept in locked storage either at the nurses’ station or in the hospital pharmacy. At this time of night, the later would be less risky than the former. “We should be able to get everything but the narcotics. Well unless they have already deactivated my access,” you added. Feeling the weight of his stare, you sighed softly, your shoulders drooping. “I was fired two days ago.”

“Really?” You silently nodded. “Well it can’t be because of incompetence. I mean, not with the way you took care of Moussa,” he said. You gave him a grateful smile. He gazed at you for a long moment in silence, the look in his eyes making your toes curl. You would have happily stood there but time was of the essence.

“So, I’ve gathered that your name is Callum?” you asked while walking toward the hospital’s doors. It was dumb small talk but it was better that than worrying yourself into a frenzy about the coming robbery.

“Yeah, Callum Lynch,” he replied, the tension in his voice making you gaze at him with a slight frown. Did he sound apprehensive? Perhaps he was waiting for you to ask him about why his friend had been tortured and left to die in such an atrocious manner. Though you wish you could, you nevertheless kept your curiosity well under control. Some things were often best left unknown. Granted, you were attracted to him but the more you knew about Callum Lynch’s criminal activities, the greater the risk of having him kill you just to keep you silent.

It was nothing short of ironic that you were in the process of committing a crime yourself. Sure, stealing medical supplies was not the same as murdering someone, but when some of those supplies were powerful narcotics, it was no laughing matter, even more so when the person doing the stealing was a nurse. If you got caught, not only would you be going to jail but you would lose your nursing license.

“Wait! Not through there!” you urgently whispered. “That’s the ER. There’s no way for us to pass by without being seen and I would be recognised on the spot. I’m not supposed to be here without any good reason.” Callum grabbed your arm, the heat of his hand almost searing your skin.

“Why were you fired exactly?” he enquired. You shook your head.

“Now’s not the time to get into that. Come on, this way.” You did not want him to know about the incident with the surgeon. Though the blame did not rest on your shoulders, you could not help but wonder if you had been too friendly. Perhaps you had given him mixed signals.

You pushed the thought, and the guilt, deep down, and guided Callum to the radiology department. Holding your breath, you swiped your ID card and breathed a sigh of relief at seeing the door unlock.

“This way,” you whispered, soundlessly pushing the door close behind you. Most of the lights were off encasing you both in shadows. It was creepy. “From here, we can bypass the nurse station at the triage, up the stairs to the OR. They usually close most of them during the night unless there are multiple patients needing emergency operations. We can grab the majority of what we need there.”

You could only hope no one would see you. You were not inconspicuous wearing your running shorts and tank top especially since they were not only dirty but stained with blood. However, you were up the stairs and turning into the operation block without any incident.

Of course, as the last few days had proved, your luck could not continue to hold, the unmistakable sound of determined footsteps combined with the clink of keys made you almost pass out in fright. You knew that sound well, every nurse in the hospital knew it. The head nurse, a nasty bitch of a woman, was fast walking in your direction. Since you were fired you had not been able to look at the roster to know when she was on duty, something you had always done before. It was a survival instinct the nurses here had developed.

Knowing she would turn the corner and see you in less than a minute if you continued to stand there, you grabbed Callum, pulled him inside the nearest operating room, and slid behind the opened door. It would have been better to close it but the sound would have definitely attracted her.

“Shhhh,” you whispered. Closing your eyes, you fervently prayed the dratted woman would simply continue on her way. The footsteps and clinging of the keys grew closer. Blood rushed loudly in your ears so hard and fast your heart was beating. Suddenly, the hallway became utterly silent. The head nurse had stopped almost directly in front of the room where you were hiding. She had seen you enter; she had heard a noise; she had smelled your fear!

Your thoughts were running in a circle while you tried not to hyperventilate from sheer panic. This was _so_ not the time for Callum to pin you against the wall and have one of his hands slowly move from your waist up to the side of your neck. What the fuck was he doing?!

“I lied to you,” he said, his husky voice barely above a murmur, his hot breath fanning your ear. You could have moaned from the sensation of it, only the very real threat of being discovered stopped you from doing so. “I did stalk you, after a fashion.” He lightly rubbed the tip of his nose around the edge of your ear. “I first saw you run about a week ago and have been watching you every morning since.”

You could not believe your ears! He had truly been stalking you! You wanted to rage at him for so lying to you back at the apartment but if you made too loud a sound, the head nurse would hear. Naturally, he knew that otherwise he would not have confessed it. You glared at him hoping it would convey the fact you did not find his timing all that amusing.

His answer came swiftly but in a manner you had not anticipated. His hand grabbed the back of your neck and pulled your face forward just as his swooped down, his lips taking hold of yours, his tongue delving deep inside your mouth. His hand moved from the back of your neck to just under the jawbone. He tilted your head to the side to have better access to your mouth. The man knew how to kiss!

He ended the searing kiss with a light nibble on your lower lip before half-kissing, half-licking up from your jaw to your ear.

“She’s gone,” he whispered, biting the sensitive skin just below your earlobe.

“Huh? Who? Who’s gone?” you wondered still lost in complete bliss.

“The woman we were hiding from, remember?”

That’s right! You were in the hospital to grab supplies to help Moussa! This was not the time to lose your head over a kiss, no matter how amazing it had been. “Most of the things we need can be found through here,” you said keeping your voice low. Knowing you were blushing, you slipped from behind the door you had been hiding.

As silently as possible, you went to the supply cabinet just outside the operating room. You could not help but hope that by taking what you needed you were not inadvertently putting someone’s life in danger. Every seconds counted during an emergency operation. Not having the needed supply at hand could spell disaster.

Honestly, it was a safer thought process than the one about Callum’s confession. You had had no idea someone had been watching you every morning. You should be angry or, at the very least, scared that he had effectively stalked you but your feelings where so jumbled when it came to the man. You just did not know how you were supposed to react. However, it was best not to ponder on it before you were gone from the hospital. Right now you needed your wits about you.

“Look in that cabinet and grab the saline solution.” You did a quick calculation of how much you would need. “I’d say four bags. Yeah, grab four bags of saline. It’s a bit excessive but I prefer to be on the safe side,” you finally added while going where they kept the suture kits. You were a nurse not a doctor but you had watched more than your fair share of sutures. You knew what type of needle and thread were needed for pretty much every types of wounds Though they did not do it, nurses would most probably be as competent in suturing a patient than a doctor.

After taking everything you needed, you went to Callum and gently put the supplies in the shoulder bag he had brought with him. The easiest procurement was done. You still had no idea how to break into the pharmacy without raising suspicion especially since it was opened 24 hours a day for emergency. You confessed your lack of plan to Callum.

“So there’s someone on guard there at every hour?” he asked. You nodded. “And that person has the key to the narcotics.” You nodded once more though with hesitation.

“You’re not planning on killing him, right?” you found the courage to enquire. His silence did not bode well for the pharmacist on guard.

“Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent,” he cryptically said. Your confusion must have been obvious. “I don’t kill innocent people, [name]. We’ll find a way, don’t worry.”

Thus reassured, you guided him back down the stairs and through the darkened radiology department once more. The risk of being discovered on the ground floor were much higher. You could only hope the way to the pharmacy was going to be free.

This time your luck held since no one crossed your path. You took a calming breath before entering the brightly lit room. There was no help for it, you simply would not be able to steal what you needed without being seen. If that was not already bad, the guard on duty was someone you actually knew.

“[Name]? What in blazes are you doing here at this hour and dressed like that. Shit! Is that blood?! I’ll call a doct—” The pharmacist never had the chance to finish, Callum having appeared behind him. Before you could blink three times, the man was down on the floor unconscious. He would eventually wake up and discover the theft.

Your life had been in shamble in the morning. It was now completely destroyed. Still, you would not back down from your task. It could cost Moussa’s life if you did.

“He should have the keys on his person,” you said, your voice sounding hollow to your ears. Callum pushed his hood off to gaze intently at you. You could see the deep frown marring his forehead. You did not want to have to explain to him everything you had just lost. “Come on, we don’t have all night!”

He found the keys inside the pharmacist lab coat and unlocked the large narcotic cabinets. Without hesitation, you grabbed everything you would need. You were now a criminal. You would have to leave the country as fast as possible and hopefully not get arrested first. Still, you would not before making sure Moussa was in a stable condition.

“We’ve got everything we need. We should get the fuck out of here,” you said hoping Callum would not want to grab more narcotics then they needed. The lure of such a bounty as a hospital drug cabinet was a powerful one. It was the reason punishment were often harsher on staff members who illegally pilfered them.

Thankfully, the man merely nodded while pulling his hood back up. You were out of the pharmacy and through the nearest unlocked exit door as fast as you could without actually running. Never had you been more grateful to feel the night air on your face then right that instant.

Now it was just a matter of getting back to the apartment and…

“[Name]? Is that you?” Of all the people you would have the misfortune to walk into, it had to be that asshole of a surgeon. You so did not have the time for this shit!

“Fuck off!” you growled. But instead of making him back up, he smirked and crossed his arms over his chest while leering at you.

“I’m wondering why you haven’t been deported yet. Or did you hope they would revoke their decision to fire you? You know, if you play nice with me I could put in a good word to human resources on your behalf. You should have said yes when I asked you out instead of being a fucked up bitch about it.”

You made as if to pass by him but he blocked your path and would have grabbed you had not Callum interfered.

“You’re pissing me off,” he dangerously hissed. “I guess I now know why you were fired, [name].” Before you could do anything, before you could stop him, there was a loud crack, the surgeon’s screams muffled by Callum’s hand. He had coldly and unemotionally broken the man’s right wrist! “Try to be a doctor now, you assfucker. You ruined her career so I ruin yours.” With one hard punch in the face, he knocked the asshole out. “Come on. Let’s get back to the others.” You followed him but not before stopping to give the surgeon a hard kick to the crotch. It was definitely one of the bright spots of the evening.


	4. Chapter 4

### Chapter Four

  
The first thing you noticed when you came back to the small apartment was the time. Your little excursion with Callum had not taken as long as it had felt, quite the contrary. And to say it took some people years to ruin their lives, you had achieved it in less than two hours! Well, you were nothing if not an overachiever? Once everything was done and you were out of the country, or thrown in jail, you would so allow yourself a good long cry. It would not accomplish anything but you were more than deserving of some self-pity. The best medical prescription you could have: some sad songs and a lengthy bout of ugly crying. But that could wait until your patient was seen to and, more importantly, stabilised.

With the intent on doing just that, you walked inside the apartment only to almost be jumped upon by the woman, her cold eyes making you want to turn tail and run. They were the eyes of a killer. Then again, so were Callum’s. It was just easier to forget about it with him.

“What took you guys so long?” she hissed. “Moussa’s in a real bad way. He won’t wake up. I tried to give him some water—”

“You don’t give water to someone suffering from advanced dehydration!” you fairly screeched. “It’s a sure way to send him straight into shock!” You grabbed the bag Callum was holding and pushed past the woman.

“He’s in the second room. We’ve lost so many of our brothers and sisters… We can’t afford to lose him too.”

Brothers and sisters? Were they all from the same family? No that was impossible. Oh no, you had stumbled onto a cult, a killing cult! Well cult members or not, your first priority was to save Moussa’s life so you rushed into the second bedroom and quickly went about preparing a saline bag, hanging it on the wall near the bed with the help of a nail and a hanger. It was not the neatest way to do it but it would do the job.

You breathed a very brief sigh of relief once it was hooked to the catheter you had put on his right hand. There was still much to do, his condition remaining on the verge of being critical.

You efficiently undid the bandages, hissing at the fact they were still bleeding though, thankfully, they showed not signs of having became necrotic. A second saline bag was used to thoroughly clean the wounds, the bed cover becoming stained by diluted blood.

“What do you need me to do?” Callum asked coming to stand beside you.

“Get me the bottle labelled ‘Adacel’ and a syringe.” They were both in your hands in less time it had taken you to ask for them. You efficiently administered the Tetanus vaccine and hoped you had done so in time. “I need to put a picc line in his arm. It’s in that sterile blue bag.”

You knew you had done this countless times but you nevertheless briefly closed you eyes to ground yourself. Callum was proving to be quite helpful, the broad-spectrum antibiotics appearing just as fast as had the vaccine. Hopefully, this particular cocktail would stave off any sepsis that could develop. The only thing left was to suture the worst of the wounds.

“Now time for the painkillers. I need another syringe and morphine. It’ll either be ‘Duramorph’ or ‘Infumorph’…”

“Here it is.”

You grabbed the bottle and filled the syringe with the correct dosage. It was not before you put the vial down that you noticed the label. You let out a loud expletive curse. You had almost made the biggest mistake of your entire carrier! Even stealing those narcotics was less condemning!

“That’s not morphine!” you yelled, your hands actually shaking. “It’s ‘Sublimaze’!” Seeing the look of confusion on Callum’s face, you took a deep calming breath. “It’s fentanyl.”

You had been so careful not to grab the fabled opioid. Still, a bottle had seemingly escaped your notice. If you had administered such a high dosage to Moussa, who knows if he would have still been breathing by the time you would have finished suturing him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Callum whispered. It was naturally not his fault, far from it. You would have told him as much but did not trust your voice. With how you were feeling, you were liable to start bawling your eyes out. Instead, you grabbed the correct bottle from the bag, careful, very carefully drew the correct dosage, and injected it. Still in silence, you opened a sterile suturing kit and carefully picked the type you needed.

Time seemed to drag as you slowly but assiduously sutured the worst of his injuries while knowing there was nothing to be done for the less urgent ones. Moussa was going to have badly scarred forearms but you were almost certain that no muscles or ligaments had been badly touched. Scarred was better than not have full usage of your hands.

The sky outside had turned pink by the time the last of the suture was done. You were beyond exhausted and wanted nothing more than take a good long shower and then sleep like the dead. The good news was that the saline was already starting to work. That was one load off your mind. As for the others, you could only wait to see if he would develop Tetanus. You had cleaned his wounds so thoroughly you would be surprised if any infections had remained. The fact he was now stitched up and bound in sterile bandages helped tremendously. Nevertheless, you would continue to administer the antibiotics until you were completely reassured there was no septicity.

“Listen,” Callum said. “Go take a shower. While you’re doing that, I’ll run to your apartment and grab some of your clothes.”

There were so many questions you wanted to ask him but the adrenaline that had made it possible for you to treat Moussa had clearly burned itself out leaving you feeling empty and hollowed out. You knew you were about to crash and it would not be a pretty sight. The quicker he left, the better it would be. Nevertheless, he did not move, his gaze unflinching.

“Come here,” he whispered, gently grabbing your hand to pull you against his chest, his arms holding you so closely his body heat warmed your sore muscles. It felt strangely right. “You’ve done more in less than 24 hours than many have in my life. Thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me, really,” you tiredly replied. You would have done the same for anyone. Granted becoming a wanted thief was, perhaps, a bit more than what you had bargained for. But, as the saying went, there was no use crying over spilt milk. The deed was done and you had to live with the consequences. At least, your mind was at ease. You had most probably saved a man’s life and, in the end, that was all that mattered.

“No, you don’t understand,” he sighed resting his forehead against yours. “Most of my life people didn’t give a fuck about me. I’ve never met someone who would go out of her way to help like you did, [name].” He cupped your cheek with a hand, his thumb lightly grazing the edge of your bottom lip. “You could have had me arrested when we were in the hospital. Why didn’t you?” he asked.

You had no real answers to give him. It was true that, at first, you had been afraid he would have killed you, but the more time you spent with him, the more you realised he had a sense of justice. After all, the only person he had killed, that you knew of, had been your would-be rapist. What had he said back in the hospital? ‘Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent’. Those were not the words of a hardened murderer, quite the contrary. Perhaps Callum Lynch was some sort of vigilante.

“Because it’s what I do, Callum. I help people. I heal people. There’s no other reasons than that,” you finally answered.

“I confessed to watching you every morning for a week like some sort of a stalker. Fuck, I sliced a man’s throat in front of you! You should be deadly afraid of me! Damn it, [name]! I’m not a nice person. I’m a badassed criminal who usually takes what he wants no matter the consequences and, believe me, you’ve been what I want since I first saw you.”

You almost squirmed at the searing look in his eyes. If he thought that little speech was supposed to make you run away, it had quite the opposite effect. Nevertheless, he took a deep breath and gave you a crooked smile.

“Unless you want me to break a window, I’ll need the keys to your place.” Right now, you did not give a shit about getting clean clothes. Actually, you wanted out of your clothes, period. However, you were feeling beyond grimy and disgusting not to mention most probably smelling worse than a dead fish. “Now off to the shower with you and then straight into bed.” He caressed your cheek one last time before walking out of the room.

Once more, you were hit by a wave of exhaustion, the absence of Callum’s warm body making you shiver. You only had enough strength to drag yourself to the bathroom and quickly wash yourself, hissing at the pain from your superficial wounds and bruises.

With a coarse towel wrapped around yourself, you flopped in the same bed you had woken up in a few hours ago, Callum’s bed. Snuggling under the blankets, you were asleep as soon as your eyes closed.


	5. Chapter 5

### Chapther Five

  
The beeping of your watch intruded on your blissful sleep. You did not want to wake up, not while you were dreaming of Callum. Nevertheless, you had a patient to check. You were still so very tired but had pulled longer hours than that when you had been a nurse. No, you were still a nurse, just one who probably had her license revoked after the events of the previous night. Staying in bed and ruminating about such dark thoughts would not be constructive nor help Moussa so you pushed the warm comfortable blanket off you and swung your legs out of the bed.

The first thing you noticed was the fact the curtains had been closed against the bright sunlight. The second was the sight of a familiar backpack resting against the wall beside the bed. Callum had come into the room while you were sleeping though he had obviously left. Too bad, you would not have minded waking up with him sleeping beside you. You tended an ear but the apartment was completely silent.

Grabbing the boxers and t-shirt you used as a pyjama while wondering where Callum was, you went to check on Moussa. The man was still unconscious though his vitals were markedly improving. You gave him another round of antibiotics, put up a fresh bag of saline, changed his bandages and, just to make sure he would not wake up in terrible pain, administered a small dose of morphine.

Once everything was done, you turned to walk out of the room intent on going back to bed for a few more hours of sleep but came to a stop. There stood Callum wearing nothing other than his black pants. Your eyes went from his wet hair, down his chest to his trousers. They hanged low on his hips exposing his navel, his hard abdomen making your inside clench in lust. He was nicely muscled though not in an overly ripped way. In short, Callum Lynch was a hot sexy man, one who had just stepped out of the shower.

You parted your lips but closed them right back. You had no idea what to say, the intensity of his gaze effectively gluing your tongue to the roof of your mouth.

He took a step forward.

You stood your ground.

You were playing with fire and could well end up getting burned but, like that fateful morning, you did not want to take the safe path, quite the contrary.

Callum seemed to have deduced your thoughts for a wicked smile appeared on his lips. In less than two strides, he had you in his arms and off your feet. Though the other bedroom was off the side of the hallway, it felt like an eternity before he closed the door behind him with one foot.

“Remember what I said, [name]. I take what I want. Are you fine with that?” he asked. You were not too sure as to what he was referring to. He stopped in front of the bed and deeply kissed you. “I have very dominant desires that can only be satisfied if I am in total control. So I ask you once more, are you fine with that?”

Like almost all of the entire world’s population, you had heard about BDSM thanks to a certain book so it was not as if you did not understand what Callum was referring to. Still, you were not completely certain you were into the whole pain versus pleasure craze.

“I’ll never do something you don’t want me to do, I’ll never go beyond what you’re comfortable with, you have my word on that,” he added. Your hesitation must have been apparent. “The easiest way for me to know is if you use colours. Green means go, yellow means slow down, red is full stop. I promise you, [name], I’ll completely stop, no matter what we’re doing.” He gently sat you down on the bed and crouched in front of you. “I’m not into pain. I just need the control, nothing more. I’ve been in too many situations where I had none…” The haunted look in his eyes was your undoing. You did not know what had happened in his past but you were a good enough nurse to know it had been traumatic.

You grabbed his neck and brought his face close to yours. Gazing unflinchingly at him, your lips almost grazing his, your breaths mingling, you let your hands travel down his chest, your fingers exploring the firm skin, his muscles twitching slightly under them.

Slowly, you laid back on the bed and brought your arms over your head, crossing them at the wrists.

“Green,” you whispered.

Callum seemed to hesitate for a moment but then he was upon you, his left hand keeping your arms over your head, his hold upon your wrists strong but not painful. His lips took yours in a branding kiss, his tongue delving inside your mouth. If you had thought the kiss at the hospital had been something, it paled in comparison to this one. Before it had been taunting, now it was pure unleashed passion.

Growling, he suddenly got up and pulled you after him by the wrists. The muscles of his jaw clenched almost rhythmically as if he was striving to calm himself. After a minute, he released you and took a step back.

“Get undressed,” he said. You hesitated. He crossed his arms over his chest and cocked an eyebrow. “I want you to get undressed now.” Though his voice had not risen, there was such a tone of authority to it that your hands automatically went to the bottom of your t-shirt. You pulled it over your head in one smooth move and let it drop on the floor, the boxers joining it after a few seconds.

You stood completely naked while Callum said not one word, his hot gaze slowly roving over your body. Goosebumps appeared on your skin from the sheer ardour of it. Though there definitely was a feeling of vulnerability in standing thusly in front of someone, at the same time you did feel powerful especially at seeing his reaction, the bulge of his erection pushing against the front of his pants.

“Now I want you to bring two of your fingers to your mouth and lick them. Then play with yourself.”

Without breaking eye contact, you sucked your first two fingers in your mouth, making sure Callum saw your tongue slowly swirl around them. You watched him follow their movement down your throat to your breasts, one finger barely grazing a nipple, over your navel to end up hovering just above your crotch.

Taking a step to the side, you spread yourself to give him a better view. As soon as your middle finger rubbed against your already quivering clitoris, your breath hitched up, your lids becoming heavy-lidded, your teeth lightly raking your lower lip. Callum sat down on the bed but made no move to touch himself. He simply watched, his smoldering gaze so potent you almost felt dizzy from it.

Emboldened, you arched your hips forward while, at the same time, slipping your two fingers inside. You had never felt this wet nor this wild before. You slid in and out, going from your clitoris to your quivering folds, at first slow but then going faster. Your breathless gasps turned into low moans. 

“Stop,” you heard him order. Your hand refused to listen to your brain. You could feel your climax fast approaching, your fingers pumping in and out while your thumb circled and flicked your clitoris. You were so close, so very close to have an orgasm, your whole body shaking with the need for release. “I _said_ stop!”

One moment you were masturbating, the next you were pinned against the wall, Callum holding both your hands at shoulder height, his knee firmly pressed against your crotch, the fabric of his pants coarse against your flushed skin. You felt more than a little frustrated, the retreating unachieved climax leaving you hungering for it even more. You would have probably start humping his leg like a dog but you had disobeyed him once by not stopping, you were not too sure you wanted to do so again, not if the punishment was as maddening as this one.

“Your needs, what you’re allowed to feel, everything is mine and mine alone to grant or to deny,” he whispered in a raspy voice. He brought the hand you had used to pleasure yourself to his face and licked your fingers before sucking them. The hot wetness of his mouth made you shudder. It was a good thing he was holding you up by pressing you against the wall for your legs had became unsteady.

He released your fingers and savagely kissed you, his teeth biting your lower lip before sucking it inside his mouth. Your taste was still on his lips. You would have touched him but he abruptly released you and took a step back.

“Get down on your knees,” he growled. You complied on the spot. It was not hard to do since your legs were trembling so much you would not have been able to hold yourself upright for very long. “Undo my pants.” You grabbed the belt buckle. “No, I want you to look at me while you’re doing it.”

You gazed up and stared at him while slowly unfastening his pants. Since you could not see what you were doing, you had to rely on touch only. It made his erection even more obvious since you could not help but feel it, your fingers brushing against it when you undid the zipper.

“Pull them down.” Your eyes still locked with his, you slipped your fingers inside the waistband, moved it past his ass, and then all the way down. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and gave you a crooked smile. He did not need to tell you what he wanted since it was quite evident. Still the pulling of your hair had taken you by surprise. You gasped sharply making him automatically relax his hold. “Colour?” he asked in all seriousness.

“Green,” you whispered without hesitation. The smile was back on his lips as was the slight tension on your scalp. You brought a hand between your legs to steady yourself but a tug on your hair made you stop.

“Don’t touch yourself.” It had not been your intent but, instead of explaining it to him, you bowed your head in apology, the pressure on your hair abating. Instead of keeping your balance with your hand on the floor, you opted for grabbing the back of his thigh right underneath the curve of his butt-cheek. The muscles twitched under your touch. You dug your fingers in. “Look at me,” he growled.

Once more you stared up at him while your free hand first cupped his balls before sliding up his length and then down pushing the foreskin at the same time. Ever slowly, you parted your lips, the very tip of your tongue hovering over the engorged head. You lightly licked it, making sure to tease open the small slit, before pulling it into your mouth, your tongue curving around its length.

Once it was as far in as you were comfortable with, you sucked in your cheeks and glided up until it was almost all out of your mouth. Your hand stroke up and down, coating his shaft with your saliva, before your mouth went down once more. All the while, Callum was staring at you, his blue eyes having turned smoky grey, his breath erratic, his groans growing louder.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” he suddenly blurted when you gently scraped your teeth on the velvety head. You continued to suck him using your lips, tongue and teeth while your hand either stroke him or cupped his balls. “Stop!” he grunted pulling your hair up. You let his erection slip out of your mouth with a slight popping sound and licked your lips. His low growl was your only warning before he grabbed you and threw you on the bed. You landed on the mattress with a yelp.

Lifting yourself on your elbows, you watched as he picked up his discarded pants and slid the belt from it, a wicked gleam in his eyes. You lay back down and raised your arms, offering him your hands. After all, he had said he was not into pain so you knew he would not whip you with it. Strange how, despite everything, you trusted him. With a dark chuckle, he knelt over you, his erection brushing your breasts. You arched your back to rub against it but, with a firm hand on your chest, he pushed you down into the mattress.

“No touching, no feeling up,” he berated while threading the end of the belt through the buckle. He grabbed your wrists and secured them together by tightening the loop. It was far from being restrictive, a thug and it would loosen. “Don’t you think about it. I see it come undone and you’ll regret it.”

He did not give you time to answer as he ruthlessly kissed you, his tongue plunging deep inside. You sucked on it and was rewarded with a deep growl that reverberated through his chest. He broke the kiss and bit your lower lip before letting his hands caress down the inside of your arms, the calluses on his hands making your skin tingle. For a moment, the only sound in the room was your erratic breathing until he grabbed one of your breasts, his thumb skimming over an erect nipple. You let out a long moaned, your head bending back into the mattress when his tongue flicked around the other breast.

You itched to grab his head, to run your fingers down his shoulders, to rake his back, to grip his ass and spread it open. You almost did just that when he sucked a nipple inside his mouth, his teeth playfully biting it. Your hips buckled, the need to grind yourself against him overpowering. His hand released the breast he was fondling to hold your waist, his fingers grasping the hipbone with enough strength to bruise it.

“That’ll cost you,” he rasped, his hot breath against your wet nipple making you push your hips against his hand. Your body was craving release. In one smooth move, he sat up. “I did warn that I would punish you. You’ll learn to do as I tell you.” He quickly bent to give you a punishing kiss, your lips feeling raw from it, before agilely moving down your body. Holding your gaze, he parted your legs, his fingers digging in the tender flesh of the inner thighs so very near the apex of your crotch.

Slowly, he spread you open, your teeth biting your lower lip at the sensation of cold air against your hot flesh. You did not know what sort of punishment Callum was planning but you were not complaining at the moment.

Moving slowly, he nuzzled first your right thigh then your left one, his tongue darting to lick the very edge of your folds. You bit back a curse and took long shuddering breaths. The man was teasing you to death! He continued to torment you, inching closer to your clitoris while never quite touching it. This was, in truth, beyond punishing. It was nothing short of torture!

“I won’t go against your wishes, just please stop!” you begged but he did not seem to be listening. “I’ll do as you ask, I’ll do whatever you want me to do, always!” Your hips were trembling from the desire to move. You were flushed, your folds pulsating from the rush of blood.

You parted your lips to beg once more but his tongue languorously circled your clitoris. Whatever you had been about to say was lost as you let out a sharp yelp. He licked down to your opening and back up. You had to push your hips into the mattress not to buck up. You were almost unable to do it when he actually sucked your clitoris before nibbling it.

“Shit! Oh fucking shit! Yes! Just like that! Oh! Oh yes! Don’t fucking stop!” you pleaded in a keening voice. You were once again on the verge of having an orgasm and by how intense the build up to climax was, it would be shattering.

With one last nibble, Callum sat up, a wicked smile on his lips. The bastard actually stopped! You sputtered, your still pleasure-fogged brain trying to come up with something scathing to scream at him. You were of a mind to grab the belt he had cinched your hands with and whip him good. You were not prone to violence but that was twice now he was denying you release!

“There are consequences to not obeying me,” he whispered darkly with that cocksure grin. A good spanking came into mind, anything really but interrupting a coming orgasm! “I control everything and that includes when you come. I’ll let you when _I_ want to and not before.”

You sat up but he pushed you back down with a hand on your shoulder, the other one tilting your head up. He bent down and kissed you, his tongue curling itself around yours. His hand released your shoulder to go rest on your tied wrists. With a knee, he parted your legs wider. You could feel his erection rub against your outer fold, its head brushing your still pulsating clitoris. Oh how you wanted to move your hips but did not want to be punished once again. Twice was more than enough. It was only when he placed himself that warning bells chimed loudly in your head.

“No, stop,” you gasped but he just tightened his hold on your wrists and poised himself to thrust into you. “No, red! RED!” As if a switch had been turned off, he smoothly got off you and knelt by your side. Before you could be amazed at how fast he had stopped, the belt was off your wrists, his arms pulling you against his chest.

“What’s wrong, cariña?” he asked, his blue eyes looking at you in concern. “Did I hurt you, did I go too fast?” The man had done a complete 180. It was a bit dizzying.

“No, I’m fine I just remembered that… wait, what did you call me?”

“Darling, that’s what I called you,” he replied with a laugh.

“No, that’s not it at all. It was something sounding like quari-something. Sounded latino, really.” For a moment, a dark look flitted across his face. You wondered what you had said to get such a reaction from him but felt it better not to ask. After all, a man like Callum Lynch had to have a lot of skeletons in his closet. “I forgot that… well… I didn’t take my pill last night,” you finally explained, your voice sounding lame to your ears.

“Oh! Oh fuck! I didn’t think of that. I don’t have anything.”

“Really? I would imagine you go through a case of condoms or something like that,” you teased but he did not respond in kind, his body having become rigid.

“I’ve been celibate for quite a while,” he replied without giving any more details.

“Well, good thing I’m a nurse who has a habit of carrying some in my backpack in case I run into young teenagers who need help in that department!” It was plain to see you were trying to lighten the mood.

You shuffled off the bed and opened the side pocket of your backpack, the stacks of condoms neatly divided. Having experienced first hand, and mouth, how well endowed he was, you chose one of larger sizes and turned to get back to bed only to notice that Callum had come to stand right behind you. How could that man move without making sound was baffling.

“Here—eeeek !” you screeched loudly for he had lifted you up and had thrown in the middle of the bed. It seemed to be something he quite liked to do. Gone was the concern in his eyes having been replaced by a searing intensity.

No sooner did you land on the mattress that he was upon you, his kiss ravaging. He tightly grabbed your right leg and hooked it around his waist, his knee pushing your left one as far as it could go. He rolled the condom onto his still hard erection and stopped. Oh fuck no! He would not!

“You’re mine,” he said. “Don’t you forget that!” His mouth fastened on the top of your left breast, his teeth biting down on the skin before sucking it hard. Was he marking you? Whatever the reason, it would leave quite a bruise. “Mine,” he repeated mere instant before he entered you. You were so wet, he had no difficulty burying himself in one smooth move, his balls coming to rest against your ass.

For a moment, everything seemed to still until he pulled out, and parted your folds with his fingers. He rammed back in hard, the sound of his hips slapping against yours filling the room. It was soon drowned by your moans and his groans, by the creaking of the bed, by the headboard knocking rhythmically against the wall. Faster and faster he pumped, in and out, sweat trickling down his torso. Still, he did not break eye contact, did not look anywhere else, his entire concentration was centred on you.

You felt the rising tension in your body but bit your lips not to shout. After all, you did not want him to stop again! Anything but that! Still, you could not stop your sharp cries of pleasures when he lifted your hips up to change the angle. It made the head of his erection push past the hyper sensitive spot every time he pounded into you.

“Not yet!” he growled. He grabbed your wrists, lifted you clear off the bed, and pushed you against the wall. Anchoring your legs high around his waist, he grabbed your ass, his fingers digging in the flesh. He thrust hard enough to lift you slightly from the wall. “Put your hands on my shoulders.” You clenched his upper arms, the coiled muscles rolling under your fingers.

The rhythmic pounding, the sweat trickling down between your breasts, the musky scent of your heated bodies, the mingling of your breaths, the weight of his stare, the feel of his fingers, of his shaft pumping in and out frantically, of your mounting climax, these were the only tangible things your brain could currently grasp. A bomb could have exploded on the other side of the door, zombies could have risen from the graves and start feasting on the human population and you would not have noticed nor cared so much your entire being was caught in this carnal lust Callum had ignited in you.

Kissing you hard enough to leave your lips feeling bruised, he pushed himself from the wall, walked to the bed while holding you and laid down. Your hands automatically braced themselves on his chest as you found yourself straddling him. This was an interesting turnabout but, naturally, he would not relinquish control even in this position, his grip upon your hips firm.

“Caress your breasts,” he drawled. Staring at him, you slid your hands down his chest, your fingers tracing the well define V of his pelvic muscle before caressing their way up your thighs, turning inward near your crotch. You felt more than saw his sharp intake of breath but you merely grazed your wet folds before travelling over your navel to the underside of your breasts. You cupped them, your thumbs lightly flicking the nipples.

With a growl, he raised his hips using his bent legs while pushing yours down, impaling you completely. You let out a keen cry when the head of his hard erection hit your cervix, the mix of pain and sheer pleasure making you grasp your breasts tightly.

“Oh, oh fuuuuck! Oh shit! Yes! YES!” It was as if your words drove him on, ramming in and out of you harder, faster, his breath turning into growling moans.

“Shit! You’re so fucking hot!” he shouted, his hands grasping your hips so hard you knew you would have bruises later on. The bed was creaking so loudly you were sure it was on the verge of breaking. “Put your fingers in my mouth, darling! Fucking shit! Now!” You brought an unsteady hand to his lips, his tongue licking them. “Touch yourself, touch your clit. I want to watch you play with yourself!”

You did as he wanted, making sure he could see what you were doing while the other hand continued to fondle you breast. You arched your back to give him a better view making his erection push against your G-Spot.

“Shit, oh god, oh yes! Don’t stop! Fuck me hard! Yes, oh yes, right there, oh fuck!”

“Beg for it!”

“Please! Oh fucking shit! Please, please, oh, SHIT!”

“Come now!”

You climaxed almost instantly, your lips parted in loud screams, your inner folds convulsing as the intense orgasm rippled through you. Less than a few heartbeats later, Callum ground himself fully into you, his head bent back, his neck muscles bulging as he let out one loud grunt. You felt his shaft pulsed once, twice, three times inside before he slipped out.

He gazed up at you with heavy-lidded eyes, one trembling hand caressing your sweaty cheek. Lifting himself slightly so he could lay a soft kiss on your lips, he gently rolled you off him. Feeling like a doll whose strings had been cut, you watched him get up to go to the adjoining bathroom. You were already half-asleep when he came back to bed, his arms pulling you against his chest.

“Why is it that you can calm my inner demons?” he whispered. You tried to come up with an answer but you were simply too tired to think coherently. Despite the fact the sun was high in the sky, you drifted to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

### Chapter Six

  
It was just after dusk when you finally got out of bed, the house completely silent except for the soft snores coming from a still sleeping Callum. He must have woken up at least once since he was once more wearing his pants. His chest though, was still so very beautifully naked. You stood there gazing at him, refusing to think about what was coming. Mainly, despite the all-consuming lust you both had shared, you simply could not stay. You had to leave the country before the authorities could catch you. If you had to be imprisoned, and in all likeliness you would be, you would much prefer it was in your own country unless… Did they extradite narcotics thieves?

In any advent, it did no good to overly fret about it. It was not like you had killed someone so the police would not come barging in to arrest you. At least, you hoped not! No matter what, it was not like you could leave while Moussa still required care. With that in mind, you quickly got dressed and silently padded out of the room and into the next one.

“Good morning or is it evening?” You stopped in the doorway. You had not expected him to be awake. “Now, don’t be shy. I’m sure I look a fright but I don’t bite,” Moussa added with a feeble chuckle. Giving him a bright smile, you finally walked inside the room.

“Good evening. Moussa, right?” You put two fingers against his carotid artery and counted, the man waiting until you were done. His pulse was stable though still weak.

“Yes, Moussa or you can call me Baptiste.” You gave him a quizzical look. “Old joke.”

“Ok,” you replied with a laugh. “I don’t know if you remember, but I’m [name]. I was here when your friend brought you.”

You had so many questions you wanted to ask but concentrated on assessing his vitals instead. Using a small penlight, you checked his pupils’ reaction. So far everything appeared to be normal which meant he had most probably not suffered a cranial trauma. It was one less worry. Concussions could be sneaky and sometimes the symptoms took days before surfacing. You checked the saline but did not think he would need a third bag. He was stable enough to start taking small amount of liquids.

His recovering speed was almost baffling.

“It’s the Bleeding Effect,” you heard him say making you realise you had actually thought out loud. “Oh, Callum didn’t mention… no matter! Are you a doctor?”

“No, I’m just a lowly nurse.” He snorted cynically.

“Yeah, I’m not buying the ‘lowly’ bit at all. I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for you, I’m sure. Wait! No drugs, please!” he suddenly shouted seeing you fill a syringe.

“These are antibiotics, nothing more,” you reassured him. “I won’t give you painkillers if you don’t want. But if the pain gets to be too much, don’t suffer for nothing.” He slowly nodded his head, his eyes looking everywhere but at you.

You did not want him to be in pain and, with the amount of stitches he had on his forearms, he was more assuredly suffering. Nevertheless, you could not go against his wishes. For all you knew he was an ex-junkie. It would not be the first time you had treated one.

“Thank you,” he finally whispered. “Not many would have done all you did for the likes of me. No, they would have left me to die.” There it was, the same sort of haunted look you had seen on Callum. What had happened to them?

“Well, that’s not happening on my watch!” you told him in all seriousness. “I don’t let people die.”

“Sometimes letting them die is for the best. And there are times when killing is the only way to ensure the safety of many.” He lifted his gaze, his black eyes staring straight into yours. Your heartbeat started to accelerate, your breath getting lodged in your throat. “We work in the dark to serve the light.” It made no sense whatsoever unless they were, as you had previously thought, a cult. Moussa cursed and shook his head. “Cal really should have been upfront with you after finally having the guts to talk to you!”

Obviously the man knew Callum had been secretly watching you. You were fed up of being kept in the dark about everything. There were just too many strange things about them, too many things that did not add up.

You opened your mouth to ask all the questions that had been running in your mind since meeting Callum but a loud sound made you jump with a short yelp of fright. Your nerves were completely taut. Maybe it was the woman coming back? You took a step towards the hallway but froze on the spot when you heard a loud curse, a very masculine one. It definitely was _not_ the woman!

“[Name]!” Callum shouted briefly stopping in front of the bedroom’s door. He was still shirtless though two contraptions were now strapped to his inner wrists. Those were the strange blades he had used to kill your attacker! “Get out through that window and run! Don’t look back, just run!” That said, he disappeared from the doorway.

“Go!” Moussa urged you in turn, hissing in pain when he tried to get out of bed. You put a restraining hand on his chest and shook your head with a frown. He was going to open up his stitches moving about in such a manner. “They’re Templars! They’ll kill you just for being with us! Do as Cal said and run!”

“Templars?! What—what are you guys on about?” You had to stop him from trying to get up once more. “Stop that! You’ll end up injuring yourself! And for your information, I am not going—”

The rest of what you were saying was interrupted when someone entered the room, a large burly man you had never seen before. Behind him, coming from somewhere in the apartment, sounds of struggling could be heard. Part of you was concerned for Callum but there was nothing you could do to help him. Instead, you valiantly put yourself between the thug and Moussa. You would be damned if you let anyone try to injure your patient!

“Doctor Rikkin mentioned only three of you so who the fuck are you?” the man asked, spitting on the floor. He was totally revolting.

“She’s just a nurse, she’s got nothing to do with all of this so let her go,” Moussa hissed coldly from the bed.

“No, I don’t think we will. She cast her lot when she decided to hang about with you damn Assassins.” Assassins?! Had you heard him correctly? First Templars and now Assassins?! This was getting beyond fucked up. “I’ll kill you after I deal with that one.” He grabbed you by the throat and easily pushed you against the dresser, a few bottles falling on the floor. He was going to kill Moussa in front of you!

Quickly bringing your hands behind your back, you grabbed a syringe in one and a bottle in the other. It was a good thing you were able to do this with your eyes closed. With a flick of your finger, you uncapped the needle and slipped it through the vial’s soft lid. You took a deep breath. Pulling the plunger as far as it could go, you filled the barrel to the fullest.

“Hey, you motherfucker!” you called out, the man turning to snarl at you, a wicked looking knife in his hand. You lunged at him, your hand, still holding the glass bottle, thrust forward. Naturally, he easily caught it. It left his neck wide open.

The hand you had kept behind your back swung forward, your training as a nurse guiding your aim. In one smooth move, you had the syringe go right into the carotid artery, your thumb already pushing the plunger until there was nothing left.

The man screamed, the knife falling from his hand as he grabbed for the syringe and pulled it out of his neck. You once more put yourself in front of Moussa. The thug shook his head a few times as if trying to clear it. He looked at you, his eyes opened wide in fear.

“What… you… in… me…,” he tried to say, his voice slurred, his breaths already beyond erratic.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you whispered brokenly. There was a sudden yell, a blade piercing the man’s throat from the back. You were in Callum’s arms before the body hit the floor.

“Look at me,” he said in a tight voice. “[Name]! Look at me!” You turned your eyes from the corpse, your vision was blurry with unshed tears. “I killed him, not you!” You shook your head, your hand opening to reveal the glass bottle. He took it from you and threw it on the floor. “You couldn’t have known. You—you incapacitated him, nothing more. My blade is what killed him.”

You wanted to believe him but you had known from the moment you had taken the bottle, the only one that had still been almost full. No, you had knowingly and deliberately injected a lethal dose of fentanyl straight in the man’s arterial vein. You had killed. You, a nurse, had killed a man.

“Are they all dealt with?” you barely heard Moussa ask Callum.

“All dead. Where the fuck was Lin? Why wasn’t she guarding the premises?”

“We knew it was just a matter of time before we had to be on the run again. Lin went to find a vehicle for us.” That made you snap out of your mental anguish.

“You’re in no condition to go anywhere!” you said, both men looking at you as if you had grown a second head.

“We don’t have a choice. We’ve got to leave. They knew we were in the region since they caught Moussa but now they have pinpointed our position. It’s only a matter of time before Abstergo sends more people when these ones don’t report,” Callum explained.

“Wait? Abstergo? As in Abstergo Industries?! The multinational corporate that is responsible for most of the technological developments of our time? _That_ Abstergo?!” You gazed at him in silence for a moment. “Are you like fucking nuts?!” you finally exploded. “Why would they want you dead?!”

“Because they’re in truth Templars. We Assassins have been at war with the Templar Order for hundreds of years,” he explained. How the man could keep a straight face while saying that was incomprehensible.

“Just listen to yourself! It’s crazy talk!” He pushed you away from him with an exasperated snarl.

“You don’t get it. Yeah, I knew you wouldn’t.” In a dismissive gesture, he turned from you. Your heart ached at the brush-off. He had revealed something about himself and you had almost spat in his face. You lightly touched the side of his wrist with one finger. There was an hesitation but then his hand gently grabbed yours.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "It's just a lot to take in right now." You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. "But... I believe you." His fingers tightened around yours in answer. The black man looked down and briefly smiled before becoming serious.

“You should both go pack the essentials so we can—” A loud curse made them all look towards the hallway. This time the voice was definitely female.

“What the fuck happened here?! Moussa? Callum?”

“We’re in here!” Callum called back.

“Is everyone alright? I went out to find some transportation for us. What happened to him?” the Asian woman asked pointedly looking at the dead man.

“Death happened to him,” he answered with a smirk.

“I see the hole in his throat but why are his hands blackish and his eyes bulging in such a way?”

“Leave it alone, Lin!”

“Cyanosis,” you whispered and though you did not want to, you nevertheless looked at the dead man. The signs were so evident now. “Basically, he suffered from hypoxia, lack of oxygen brought upon—” You had to stop and take a deep breath, your body shuddering. “Lack of oxygen brought upon by an overdose of fentanyl.”

“Huh! How did he overdosed…?”

“ENOUGH!” Callum yelled. “The fucker is dead, he died by my hand, end of discussion! Now, you got us some transportation? Good. The faster we pack, the sooner we can be on the road.”

“What if we went to my place?” you suggested but he shook his head.

“No, when I went there to retrieve some of your clothes there were already police cars parked nearby. They’re waiting for you,” he explained.

“Wait! Why are the cops after her?” Moussa asked with a frown.

“A coworker of mine saw me before we stole the narcotics I needed. Basically, I stole very powerful drugs.” One of them you had injected in the dead man. Oh shit! The police would find the body. What if they performed an autopsy? The pharmacist would know a full bottle of fentanyl was missing. You had gone from stealing drugs to being a murderer!

“Hey, look at me. [Name], look at me!” Callum grabbed your chin and forced you to turn your attention from the dead man to him. “Good now breathe. Come on, in and out, you can do it.” It was not until he mentioned it that you realised you were hyperventilating. He rested his forehead against yours and took a deep breath himself. “Don’t come apart on me now, darling, please.” he whispered before his lips tenderly kissed you. “We need you, _I_ need you.”

You remembered the soft words he had whispered after you had both satiated your lust. It had been already too late the moment you had decided to help them, the very moment you had surrendered yourself to Callum. There was no turning back for you.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Come with us. Come with us and don’t look back. I swear, I’ll tell you everything and hold nothing back… just please stay with me.”

You gazed deep into his blue eyes and slowly smiled.

A safe and predictable life was so overrated!


End file.
